


Beginning With Doubt

by likehandlingroses



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-20
Updated: 2015-12-20
Packaged: 2018-05-07 23:47:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5475038
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/likehandlingroses/pseuds/likehandlingroses
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Belle's peculiar ability to lessen the negative effects of the Dark One's magic makes her next in line to protect the duke's soul when the Darkness switches hands. However, as the character of the new Dark One is revealed, another kind of magic altogether threatens to shift fate for the both of them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AlsyWalsy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlsyWalsy/gifts).



> Happy Rumbelle Secret Santa to my giftee, AlsyWalsy! I loved making your gift. Have a very happy holiday season.

Belle could still smell smoke, though she wasn’t sure whether the scent remained in the air or her memory. They were at a village inn now, far from the castle and safe. The inn was a bit musty, but so far Belle hadn’t caught anything creeping or crawling, which was a relief. If she ever managed to get to sleep, the last thing she wanted was to be woken up by rat skittering about. Thankfully, the only sounds were the bustle of the pub under her feet and the disgruntled whining of her cat, Drusilla.

“I know...shhhh…I know,” Belle murmured. “But we have to make the best of it. Look, I made a new bed for you.”

She picked the cat up and set her in the blanket nest she’d prepared. Drusilla stood in it, ginger-footed, and stared up at Belle. In another moment, she went back to her distressed meowing.

Belle sighed, though she wasn’t surprised. She hadn’t named the creature after the fictitious Handsome Hero’s stuffy step-mother for nothing. Drusilla had been a persistent grouch since kittenhood.

“It’ll do fine, stop pouting. Neither of us will get any sleep if you-” The bang on her door caused her to jump. Drusilla shot under the bed with a screech. Belle had hardly moved toward the door when it slammed open, hitting the wall with a thud. Her father and Gaston stormed in.

“Father, what is it?" Everyone had gotten out of the castle just fine. Surely nothing very terrible could have happened?

Her father didn’t look her in the eye. For all the ferocity he’d had when entering the room, it was as though he’d suddenly deflated.

“Father?" Belle stepped forward, placing a shaking hand on his arm. "What’s happened?”

At last, Gaston spoke. “Someone’s taken the dagger," he said, eyes looking straight at the far wall.

“What? But how did they know-”

“Catherine warned us about this,” her father said, still looking at the floor. “She said he was feeling out of sorts...he must have tried to get someone to take it so he could-”

“-stop it,” Gaston replied. “It was a thief, a vandal...he might not have even known what he had stolen…”

Belle could see from his pale cheek and tense jaw that he didn't truly believe what he was saying. Her father was right. Catherine had known.

“Is there any way we can-”

The scream that came from down the hallway answered Belle’s unfinished question with a resounding “no.” The air was already gone from the room when the guard rushed through the still open doorway, and Belle did not need him to speak to know what had happened.

“Catherine is dead.”

“He knew exactly what he was taking,” her father said. “And now Zoso is gone. Just as he wanted it, I’m sure. Catherine did say...she tried to tell us…”

“It doesn’t matter what she said now," Gaston spat out. "She’s dead. And now you have a new Dark One to deal with.”

* * *

 

**Three Days Later**

“His name is Rumplestiltskin. He was a spinner, a coward. Ran from the last Ogre’s War.”

“And now he’s ended this one,” Belle’s father sighed. “At what price, I can’t imagine. Did you speak to him?”

“No one’s seen him,” the soldier replied. “They say he went back home to his son. Some of the peasants seem to think he’s transformed the darkness, turned it towards good…”

“Well, they don’t understand the cost!” her father replied, his voice booming. “If I could have...but it wasn’t worth it. You mark my words, there’ll be plague somewhere in the next week. Magic has a price. The fool hasn't learned that yet, but he'll see. You’re dismissed.”

“Yes, my lord.”

The silence that rang through the room then was unnecessary, for both Belle and her father knew exactly what must be spoken about. They might as well start. Gaston had already left for his own land. Belle had caught two of her chambermaids weeping the night before. Still, she waited for her father to speak, half hoping he wouldn’t but knowing he must.

“Belle,” he said.

“Father?”

“You know what I’m going to ask of you. I hadn’t thought...or I’d hoped...perhaps we can find someone else to-”

“-there isn’t anyone else, and even if there were...it’s already been decided,” she said, looking at her hands.

“Good girl. But we’ll have to get the dagger back first,” he said, sounding suddenly quite matter-of-fact. “It shouldn’t be too difficult. He might be the Dark One, but he was a spinner just days ago. He doesn’t know how to handle power, how to keep it safe...if we act now we can get it back. He’ll have all sorts of weaknesses, blind spots…”

He stood from his chair and began to pace.

“What about his son?” Belle asked.

Her father stopped in his tracks and stared at her. “What?”

“He mentioned a son. If you were the Dark One suddenly, I’d do whatever I could to stop the darkness. If we tell him we can-that someone can help him-he’d get it for us. And then we could protect him from his father, too.”

“But how will we get to him? He won’t trust us, of course.”

Belle pondered the question for a moment. “The fairies. They’ll do it. They’re fond of me, probably because of Mother...and the villagers believe all sorts of things about them and their powers. It’d be simple.”

“It’s a clever plan,” he replied. “A very clever plan, my girl. I just hope it works. For all our sakes. It had better work.”

* * *

 

**One Month Later**

The last one hadn’t giggled. Belle didn’t know whether this difference boded well for her or not, but it was the first thing she noticed. He strutted into the throne room, his confidence not quite hiding the fact that he was remarkably slight in stature. He stopped right in front of her father, right in front of the duke he did not yet realize had duped him, and giggled.

“Did you think I wouldn’t notice you’d taken my son, dearie? That I wouldn’t do anything to stop it? You don’t know much about me, now, do you?”

The laughter threatened to escape him again, but the duke pulled out the dagger before the imp could make another move.

“Don’t come any closer, Dark One!”

The smirk on the creature’s face turned into a snarl. “Where did you get _that?”_

“Your boy gave it to us.”

“You’re lying,” he hissed. “Where is he?!”

“He’s safe. I would have taken him anywhere he liked, but he insisted on staying here with you,” the duke said. “Anyway, it doesn't matter. I've got the dagger, and I intend on keeping it right here. You’ll be living where the last Dark One stayed. It’ll be tighter with three, but-”

“Three?”

“Magic has a price. I’m sure you know that. Even wielding this dagger...it could corrupt the soul, break the mind. So when my grandfather procured this dagger, he was wise enough to consult with the fairies for a solution.”

 _“Consort_ with them, more like,” the imp sneered.

“Fairy blood is resilient,” the duke continued, ignoring the comment. “Restorative. And, if kept in close quarters to the darkness, mediates and protects the one holding the dagger.”

“And so you’ve summoned one of your half-breeds to stay here with me? How thoughtful.”

“Belle’s already moved in. She’ll show you where you’ll be staying. Your son will be waiting for you, I’m sure.”

“Her?” the Dark One breathed, turning to stare at Belle. “But she’s...this is your daughter.”

“She is. She was born ready for this task, and she’s willingly taken it on given the necessity.”

The Dark One didn’t move for a moment, his brow knit as he pondered the statement. Belle felt her face flush and her eyes prick with tears for the first time since accepting her fate.

“Well, go on,” he finally declared, his voice hoarse. “Lead the way.”

He said not a word to her on the way to the cottage, didn’t make any sign of emotion until he saw his son seated at the table upon walking in.

“Bae!” The boy jumped up and grabbed his father's hands.

“Papa! I didn’t mean to-"

"My boy, what did they do to you?"

"They tricked me, they told me they could-"

“-wait,” he said, holding up his hand. “You didn’t actually give it to them, did you? They told me you did, but I know you wouldn’t have.”

“I didn’t give it to the duke. I gave it to the Blue Fairy.”

“You what?” he hissed.

Belle braced herself. The darkness had taken control. She’d seen it before, with the last one. A flash of the eyes, a tensing of muscles, and it was done. The boy didn’t know yet, hadn’t registered the signs, and he kept going.

“I didn’t know, Papa. The fairy told me-”

“-the _fairy_ told you?! The _fairy_ told you?! Do you realize what your ignorance cost me? Cost _us_?”

“Maybe it’s better this-”

“-oh, I see! You _wanted_ this to happen. For me to be eternally in thrall to the duke. Did you think that’d make it all better? Fix everything up? Is that what you thought was best?”

The boy was in tears now, but the Dark One’s voice only grew louder, his eyes flashing with unhinged anger.

“I didn’t mean-”

“You wanted this, you wanted me to lose it all, you never understood what this meant for me-for us-you want me to be weak. Because you’re weak! We could have anything, and you were too stupid to-”

“Stop it!” Belle cried out. The Dark One jumped, then. The last one hadn’t done that, either.

In the silence that followed, Belle’s eyes followed the boy. He took a deep breath as though he might shout back at his father. Instead, he turned on his heel and ran out the door, leaving Belle alone with the imp, who was still standing as though he were taller than he was, though some of the ferocity had gone from his glare, and his jaw had gone slack.

“You ought to be ashamed of yourself,” Belle said, her voice low and shaking. “Shouting at him that way. Your own son. No wonder he despises you.”

He turned on his heel to look at her, mouth open.

“He said that?” he whispered, his voice shaking.

“Don’t tell me you can’t see the fear in his eyes, the way he pulls away from you.”

“But _they_ said…gods…” The Dark One murmured to himself before sinking into the nearest chair and hiding his face in his hands.

“Hey,” Belle said, moving towards him. She could hear him crying, now, and wondered whether Catherine had ever had to hand Zoso a handkerchief. It didn’t seem possible. But then, this Dark One had been odd from the start. After a moment of her holding out the piece of cloth, he took it, though he didn't move to use it. Instead, he twisted it in shaking hands. Then he began to speak, still crumpling the handkerchief as though the action itself were wringing the words out.

“I thought it was me being foolish, remembering...of course it wasn’t going to be like when he was small, and I thought...maybe I was imagining it, it was just what happened, he’d learn to accept all this.

 “But he isn’t going to. You see that too. He’s afraid, he hates me...and I-I’ve never shouted at him like that, not ever. I wouldn’t ever...or at least, I didn’t mean to. Oh, my boy…”

His trembling voice threatened another burst of tears, and Belle was out of handkerchiefs.

“Look,” she said, placing a hand on his knee. “I’ll get him to come back to the house. You stay here. It’ll be alright. I’m sure he doesn’t hate you. After all, he was trying to save you. But you’ll have to fix supper, then. Can you manage that?”

He nodded.

“Good. I’ll be back.”

“Thank you,” he called after her. When she turned to look at him, he gave her a shaky smile. “Thank you.”

“It’s no trouble,” she replied. "Anyway, now you'll be the one who has to get more wood for the stove. It's stacked up outside. But watch out for Drusilla...she likes to lurk in there."

"Drusilla?"

"My cat. Watch out for her. If you kill my cat, we'll really be started off on the wrong foot."

The boy hadn’t wandered very far. He sat on a rock by the stream just at the wood’s entrance, prodding the water with a stick. When he heard Belle’s footsteps, he looked up and sighed.

“Go away.”

Belle continued towards him, undeterred.

“Baelfire, right? Look, I know that you think that-”

“-you and the duke tricked me so you could enslave my father. There’s nothing to think. It’s what you did.”

“But you-you saw how he was, what he did,” Belle said, pointing vaguely in the direction of the cottage. “The Dark One...he can’t be trusted.”

“That’s why I was trying to help him, to get rid of the power!” Bae exclaimed. “And all you want is to use it for yourselves…he’s still a person. And if I’d found a way to get rid of it, he would have taken it. He promised me that.”

“And you believe him?” Belle asked.

“If it made me happy, he’d do it.” He looked her right in the eye as he said it, not a trace of doubt in him. After the episode back at the cottage, Belle viewed his certainty with wonder.

“You do love him,” she said, calling to mind the lamentations of the boy’s father. He was wrong, it seemed. Utterly wrong. And so was she.

“More than anything. I just…”

“What?” Belle asked, sitting down beside him.

Bae didn’t protest this, though he elected to look at the stream instead of her as he continued. “Sometimes I’m afraid he doesn’t love me. Not the way he used to, before...before the power. You didn’t know him then. He was gentle and good and he never would have said those things to me. Never. He never...I was never afraid of him before. If he was around, things were safe. Not because he had power, but because he loved me and that meant at least something was alright. And he thinks the power makes him better, he doesn’t understand...I’m so afraid of what it will do him.”

He wasn’t talking to her anymore, not really. Belle could see the tears in his eyes returning, and she placed a hand on his shoulder, half believing he’d shake it off. He didn’t.

“He knows,” she said, after a long silence. “He knows he’s changed. He knows how much it’s hurt you. And he’s sorry for it.”

“What did he say to you?” Bae asked, looking at her.

“When you left, he...his heart broke. All that darkness, it just ran off. And I saw the man he was before, the one you just told me about. He loves you. And if you come back...if you come back I’ll help you find a way to free him.”

She nearly regretted the promise as soon as it came out. However, the smile that broke out on Bae's face was worth all the foolhardiness it had taken to create it. “You mean it?”

“Yes," Belle said, half convinced already that what she'd suggested was brilliant instead of utterly doomed to failure.

“But won’t you get into trouble?”

“Only if it works. And then it won’t matter. Come on. We'll go back to the house. See if your father has managed to avoid murdering my cat."


	2. Chapter 2

**Three Months Later**

It was getting easier every day for Baelfire to pretend that nothing had ever changed. His father’s face still bore the unmistakable signs of accepting the darkness, of course. They were living in a cottage on the grounds of the duke’s castle, isolated from all but a few soldiers and garden workers. Any moment his father might be called against his will to help the duke with any number of things. There was a half-fairy woman living with them, making things somehow lighter than they had ever been before.

And yet, every single day carried with it moments that came from the time before. Or maybe they were comprising a third time altogether, a happier time than Bae could have ever imagined. His father seemed almost as he had been before the curse, and Bae was relieved to look at him one day and realize he wasn’t afraid anymore.

He was still looking for a permanent solution. His father couldn’t live as a slave to the duke forever. But for now, things were happy.

The cat jumped up on the table, knocking over Bae’s cup of paintbrushes. They were new, as were the paints. He’d never had colors before. He remembered, once, his father saving to buy his mother some for her drawings. But they were expensive, dreadfully so, and he’d only been permitted to look at them. These ones were a present from Belle, given with the commission to paint something beautiful to put over the fireplace.

As Bae went to pick up one of the fallen paintbrushes, he heard his father sigh.

“Does your cat ever leave anything alone?” he asked Belle, who was sitting with a book in her hands.

“No,” she said, without looking up, though she smiled. “You must not know much about cats.”

“I’m happy to say that I don’t,” Rumple replied, a grin on his face.

“Don’t you like cats?” Belle set her book down on her lap, a mock look of concern plastered on her face.

“I prefer dogs.”

“Really? I never would have guessed it. You’re so…” she shook her head, smiling.

“So _what_?” Rumple pressed her. He leaned forward, head cocked to the side.

“I don’t know!” Belle laughed. “You just don’t look like a dog person.”

“And what does a dog person look like?”

Belle pondered the question for a moment. “They’re bigger than you, for one.”

“Hmph,” Rumple said, leaning back against his chair.

“I’m teasing. Did you have a dog, when you were small?”

“I had several, over the years. The spinsters who cared for me didn’t like them much, but they, ah...they were terribly fond of me. So they let me have my fun. Let them in the house, even,” he stopped for a moment, intent on the vase of flowers on the table. “They were good to me. More than good.”

“I’m glad,” Belle said, almost to herself. When he looked up at her, frowning, she continued, louder than before. “Every child deserves to be treated with kindness. And you…”

“What?” he murmured.

“Well, I just...I don’t think you’ve seen much kindness in your life, that’s all,” Belle said. A hush came over the room. Bae watched his father’s fingers moving nervously, his eyes wide. Belle bit her bottom lip before shaking her head and turning to Bae.

“Did you have a dog, Baelfire?”

“Once,” he replied.

“And you prefer dogs too, then?” Belle asked.

“I think they’re both good pets. For different reasons.”

“Of course you do,” Belle said, turning back to Rumple. “You know, your son is far more agreeable than you.”

“Don’t I know it…” Rumple said, staring at Belle. Bae was afraid another silence was in order, but his father stood up and cleared his throat.

“We need some water, don’t we? I’ll go fetch some.”

“Here, Papa...I can get it,” Bae nearly shouted. He didn’t know why it was so important that his father not leave, but he knew he must stop him.

“But you’re working on your drawing. I’ll do it.”

It was his eyes, that was the trouble. They were just like before, when he would avoid going up to certain people, not meet their eyes...and Baelfire had never understood why he let himself hide when he’d done nothing wrong. Why he was afraid of people who weren’t half as good as he was.

Only Belle was as good as he was. As good as anyone could ever be, in Bae’s experience. And he couldn’t let his father hide from that.

“No, please...let me.”

“You’re not afraid of me getting into trouble, are you?” Rumple asked in a low voice as Bae took the pail.

“No. No, I’m not. Not anymore. You’ve been...I just want to help, Papa. I can get it.”

He nodded.

“Thank you, son."

Bae stepped outside, but lingered at the door for a minute, pulled by curiousity.

“You would do it, wouldn’t you?" he heard Belle say. "Give it all up for him?”

“If I can’t make my boy happy, I’m not worth anything in this world.”

“He loves you so much. You know that, don’t you?”

“Of course...of course…”

He was lying, and Bae silently begged Belle to say something, anything, that would make him understand. Thankfully, she did.

“I know the darkness likes to tell people that they’re alone, that everyone is against them. But he isn’t. And I-I’m not, either.”

“He tells me you’re in cahoots," Rumple replied, and Bae could hear that some of the heaviness had gone from his voice. "Trying to find a way to break the curse.”

“We are.”

“Why would you want that?”

“Well, at first it was for him. For Baelfire. He loves you so, and I felt I just had to help him.”

“And now it’s...not for him?”

“Well, now it’s...well, now it’s for both of you.”

In the silence that followed, Bae suddenly felt that his spying was, perhaps, too invasive, and he scurried off with the pail.

He didn’t know if Belle loved his father. He was fairly sure his father loved Belle, though he didn’t dare ask. But if she did...her very presence was enough to chase away so much of the darkness in him. If she loved him too, that would be the end of the darkness altogether. It had to be. Bae was sure of that.


	3. Chapter 3

**One Month Later**

“-and of course, I’d love it if the two of you joined me.”

Rumple choked on his mouthful of soup.

“To a ball?” Bae asked, his eyes wide with excitement.

“Yes. They’re always beautiful, especially now in the summer...you’d absolutely love it.”

“We can go, can’t we, Papa?”

“You can do whatever you’d like. I won’t be going.”

He was looking down at his bowl, but he could practically feel Belle and Bae’s faces falling.

“But Papa-”

“It’s alright, Bae,” Belle said. “If your father doesn’t want to go, he doesn’t have to. Though you’re still welcome, if you change your mind...now, I have to go. Dress fitting.”

Baelfire hardly waited for the front door to shut before glaring at his father.

“Why did you tell her you wouldn’t go?”

“It wouldn’t be right, for the Dark One to-”

“She didn’t ask the Dark One. She asked you, Papa. That's why you don’t want to go.”

Rumple wasn’t at all sure he liked having a son who was nearly fifteen. He was getting much too clever.

“I’d look like a fool, and she’d look...it doesn’t matter. I’m not going.”

“She’s done so much for us,” Bae said.

“Which is why I’m not going,” Rumple said, standing up, most of his dinner still uneaten. “It won’t do her any favors, to be seen with me.”

“Maybe she doesn’t care.”

“Well, I do. And I’m not discussing it further. You go and have a good time. But I’ll not be going.”

Thankfully, Bae didn’t press him further, and Rumple spent the rest of the evening in peace. Unfortunately, it seemed that Bae was determined to ignore him the next day as well, as though by silent protest he would convince his father to make a fool of himself.

So Rumple left. He wandered the woods, sat by the stream, and tried not to think about what Bae had said.

_Maybe she doesn’t care._

Of course she did. How could she not?

He would never be anything but a burden to Belle, a chain she was inextricably tied to due to circumstance and greed. It didn’t do any good to pretend otherwise. Going to the ball would just be an excuse to be gawked at. Laughed at, even.

He’d look ridiculous, and she’d see, clearer than ever, that he was nothing.

He do anything to free her, to give her the chance to leave and have the life she wanted. The least he could do was give her one night without his shadow looming over her. He couldn’t take that from her. Not for all the world.

The setting sun’s orange glow in the sky prompted him to return home. Baelfire was already gone when he arrived. He plucked an apple from the bowl on the table and settled into a chair, sighing.

Whether he’d made the right decision or not, it was too late to change it now.

Then he heard the door creak open behind him. He sat up straight, but didn’t turn. The rustling of the dress and the click of approaching heels made it very clear who it was, and he didn’t think he could bear to look back.

“Rumple?” she asked, and he cursed himself for not waiting just a little longer before walking back into the house. Then again, perhaps it didn’t matter. Perhaps this had been her plan all along, to wait for him. Yes, that had to be it. He might as well have stayed out past midnight for all the good it had done either of them.

“I thought you’d left,” he said, still not turning.

“No. Not yet. Are you sure you don’t want to..?”

“I couldn’t,” he said, knowing he very well could. _Would_ , if she didn’t leave soon.

“You know you can. You won’t go, that’s the trouble,” Belle said, and Rumple could imagine the sad smile crossing her lips. “But that’s alright. I understand.”

“Thank you. Have a-”

“Aren’t you going to at least look at me? I spent hours being squeezed into this thing. At least one person I actually like should get to see me in it.”

She was a torment. Rumple turned around anyway, and found that, even in the fading light of dusk, Belle glimmered. Or the dress did, at least. Maybe both.

She is part fairy, he thought. Either way, he could hardly believe her claims that she’d been squeezed into anything. The light, yellow fabric looked as though it had been made just to glisten against her skin. She beamed at him, and it was as though no one had ever smiled before.

“You look beautiful,” he said, because he had to say something. The words weren’t enough, however. Any man, any person with sense, would tell her the very same thing.

“Thank you,” she said. “I’ll leave you to your apple, then. Goodnight, Rumplestiltskin.”

“I’m sorry,” he called out, just as she reached the door.

“What?” she asked.

“For taking your life away from you.”

“I don’t understand," she said, one hand still on the door.

“You were engaged, you were-”

“I didn’t want to marry him. I’ve told you that.”

“You didn’t want this, either.”

"I was never going to have what I wanted, Rumple. I was always going to marry for an alliance or I was going to do this. None of that is your fault. And of the two...well, I’m very fond of you. And Baelfire. I’m not at all unhappy. In fact, I-”

“What?”

She bit her lip and began walking away from the door, back towards him.

“It’s silly, but there’s something...I thought it was just the magic, at first. You being the Dark One, me being...well, whatever I am...but I think it’s more than that.”

“What is?” Rumple asked, though he knew the answer. Belle stopped in front of him and leaned down instead of answering.

He saw that she was going to kiss him, watched her eyes dart from his mouth to his wide eyes and then back again, saw her lean in. But it wasn’t until her mouth had caught his bottom lip and her hand went to cup his jaw that he _knew_ she was kissing him, that she’d come back to the cottage with the precise intent of kissing him. And so he closed his eyes and let her, too afraid to do much else. Already, it was too much, and he kept his eyes shut tight as she pulled away, terrified of looking her in the eye.

“I love you,” he heard her say. He didn’t remember if he said it back. Actually, he didn’t remember if he said or did anything at all. But she was back to kissing him in another moment, more fiercely than before, so he must have said something.

Then he felt something building in the pit of his stomach...no, just a bit lower than that...and he pushed her away, eyes now very much open.

“You should go,” he said hoarsely, and Belle frowned.

“Did I do something wrong?”

“No! No, I-” he stopped when he realized Belle was grinning.

“If I didn’t go, they wouldn’t miss me..” she said.

For the rest of his life, Rumple would split the next few hours into two periods. The first was characterized by preoccupations: not ripping Belle’s dress (he did), not apologizing for being out of practice (he _stammered_ when it spilled out), and not cursing.

“Fuck!” he said, for about the fifteenth time. Only this time, the expletive was prompted by a cramping in his leg. He lifted his head from between Belle’s legs, and she propped herself up.

“What’s wrong?”

“My leg, it’s...nevermind...here just…” he sat up and motioned for Belle to move. “I’ll be on my back and you..oh _fuck_...like that…”

With time, the worries faded away, and all Rumple remembered was _her._ All of him seemed to disappear, only to show up when it came in contact with her. Rumplestiltskin didn’t exist. It was her and his hands, her and his lips, her and his cock, none of them quite reaching her the way he wanted to, none of them enough to contain her heat and beauty. But it didn’t matter, none of it mattered. Every gasp, moan, and giggle made up for the lack, obliterated it from his mind.

She was happy, with him. Not the way he wished he could make her happy, not the way she deserved...but there was a bliss in the way she smiled at him, a genuine joy in the way she whispered his name when he moved in her, when he dared to pull her closer. And all of that happiness, all of that love...he’d gather it up and keep it for as long as he could.

“Wait…” she said, just before settling into his arms for the night. The urgent tone of her voice pulled Rumple back together again.

“What is it?” he whispered, his hands still running up and down her back. He could hardly see her face in the dimming firelight, but he still stared at her, trying to make out her expression. She was looking at his chest, her fingers tracing his collar.

“Your skin...it’s...do you feel different?” she asked.

 _Well, I should think so_ , he thought. Nevertheless, he looked down as well, and what Belle saw suddenly became clear.

The scales were gone.

_Oh._

“Do you feel alright?” Belle asked.

“Never better,” he answered, searching inside himself for any trace of the power. What had it felt like again? He couldn’t remember. It didn’t seem as though it had ever been anywhere important. It’d be like him trying to locate where his third leg might have gone. There were a few likely places, but mostly it would have gotten in the way.

“Did you know it would...?” he asked, already knowing the answer. Belle shook her head.

“I had no idea. Do you think my father-?”

The door burst open, and Belle's question appeared to have been answered before she'd asked it, for the duke stood in front of the bed before Rumple could do much but hide them both under the blankets.

“What have you done?” he barked.

“It was an accident," Belle protested. "I didn’t mean to…”

"An accident? You call this an accident?!"

“If you’ll just let us get dressed..."

“How dare you speak to me? After what you’ve done to her?!”

The words stung, more so because Rumple wasn't entirely convinced the duke wasn't right. Nevertheless, Belle was shaking beside him, and he had to say something, whether he believed it or not.

"What _I’ve_ done?" he shouted. "You’re the one who banished her here, who used her as a way for you to...what _I’ve_ done?”

"Not another word out of you! Not another word!"

“Father, please-”

“-what are people going to say? My daughter, bedding the Dark One..”

“He’s not the Dark One anymore!”

“A spinner, then! A poor, miserable spinner with nothing to offer anyone. Least of all you.”

Rumple closed his eyes and managed to pretend, for the briefest of moments, that he wasn't there. Then Belle's voice rang through and pulled him back.

“He loves me."

“Is that what you told her?” The duke asked, finally really looking at him.

“I did," he replied. "And I do. Very much. And if you loved her, you’d-”

“-let you go, I suppose?” The smirk that crossed the duke's face was condescending, but not cruel, and for the first time Rumple began to hope he might survive this encounter.

"Papa!" Baelfire raced through the open doorway, almost knocking the duke flat. His eyes went wide.

"It's true. You're not the Dark One. The dagger changed...but there wasn't another name, so I thought, he _must_ have found a way, a real way. And you did!"

Which, Rumple pondered, was true, in a manner of speaking. However, the duke still glared at the three of them alternatingly, drawing their attention to him.

"Whatever happens, my son didn't do anything wrong," he implored.

"He wouldn't hurt you!" Bae cried out. "After everything you did for him...it wouldn't be right!"

“Please, Father," Belle whispered. The duke didn't respond, not for a long while. Finally, he sighed and looked his daughter in the eye.

“Get out. All of you. Leave. Or I'll have you hanged, you understand?"

Then he was gone, before Belle could make another protest. She stared down at her hands, eyes full of tears.

"We'd better do what he says," she whispered.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,"  he said, for that was all he could say.

“It’s alright," she replied. She looked up at him and attempted a smile. "We’ll be alright. We didn’t need him before. We don’t need him now. We just broke a centuries old curse. I don’t think anything else we do could ever be so difficult as that.”


End file.
